


Gotta Bad Case Of Nothing To Lose

by IWillBeTheEndofYou



Series: The Domestic Lives Of Figure Skaters [10]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Busted!, DJ Otabek Altin, Dancing, M/M, Motorcycles, Pushing boundaries, Scared Parents, Sneaking Out, Trouble, Worry, Yuri doesn't appreciate it, Yuri should do his homework, Yuuri is doing his best, boys in make up, bratty kids doing bratty things, clubs, growing up is difficult, the podium family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:34:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28663260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IWillBeTheEndofYou/pseuds/IWillBeTheEndofYou
Summary: Yuuri and Victor told Yuri, in no uncertain terms, that he was not leaving on a school night to go and see Otabek. Well. We'll see about that, won't we?
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky
Series: The Domestic Lives Of Figure Skaters [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2046686
Comments: 62
Kudos: 210





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AndiMackmeetsHeathers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndiMackmeetsHeathers/gifts).



“Because it's a school night.” Yuuri said calmly, loading the dishwasher. Yuri huffed.

“I go to school online.” he said slowly, as though reminding a very forgetful person of a fact, or telling a small child something for the third time.  
“Remember? I can log on anytime I want.” 

“And you have two papers due and an exam in two days. Do you not?” Yuuri stood up, crossing his arms. “I am sorry, it is a shame, I know Otabek isn't here for too long. But he'll be over the weekend, and after your exam. He can come over and help you study.” he suggested. “I think that would be fine.”

“Yuuri!” the blond was aware it sounded close to a whine. “I don't want to study with him.”

“I know you do,” there was a knowing smile, and the Russian was close to stomping his foot. Victor snorted from his place at the dinner table peeling potatoes, carefully letting the skins fall into a bowl. Yuri turned to him and gave him a look, hoping to appeal to him. Surely Victor would understand, Yuri had vague memories of Yakov yelling at him about staying out too late with too many different people. But the silver haired man just shook his head.

“Sorry, I agree with Yuuri. He can come tomorrow for dinner, and he can even stay over to help you study. I might be convinced to let him sleep on the couch.” the offer dangled in front of him like a carrot on a stick.

“That's—that's...” he stammered. He couldn't exactly explain to his guardians why that was not exactly what he wanted. Somewhere in his mind, Yuri understood it was a big ask and a big allowance to have his not quite boyfriend staying over. 

It wasn't what he wanted, though. He wanted to go out to the club that Otabek was the guest DJ at. He wanted to dance, to lean into his ear between sets and tell him how much fun he was having. He wanted to stumble back to his hotel, their arms around each other, giggling softly. He wanted to take him to the rink tomorrow and show him the new routine, get his opinion on it. He wanted to show off a little bit. I'm right here, Beka, come get me—if you want me. He wanted to walk along the streets, or sit in Otabek's hotel room, playing Switch and sitting so close together. He wanted the rapid breaths that come when he climbed into Beka's lap and began to kiss him.

“Come on, please? Just this once?” he begged. “I promise I'll do great on my exam.”

“Of course you will! Because you'll be studying so hard!” Victor grinned. Yuri growled, his teeth clenched. He looked at Yuuri one more time, but the older man just pushed up his glasses and began to wipe down the counter.

“I'm sorry,” Yuuri said again, when the kid didn't leave the kitchen. “I know. I'm sorry. And we'll try to set something up this summer so you two can hang out for a longer stretch. But I can't just let you...”

“Why not?” Yuri demanded, his hands in fists at his sides.

“Because it doesn't look right.” the Japanese man was blushing. “You're so young, and Otabek is so young. The two of you locked in a hotel room together? It just—it looks untoward. How would Victor and I seem if we just let you do that? We'd look like we didn't have any sense.”

“It isn't like I can get pregnant or get him pregnant.”

Victor nearly choked as he took a drink of water.

“Pregnancy isn't the only thing. There are diseases. And I don't think it's appropriate, Yurio. I know you're disappointed.”

“Otabek isn't diseased and neither am I!” he barked.

“Have either of you been tested?” 

“Well, no but---.” he wasn't about to say that he was a virgin. 

“Then you don't know. I was your age once, too, Yurio.” Yuuri pushed his glasses up and gave him a sympathetic look, which only served to piss him off more. The blond ground his teeth.  
“Sweetheart, you can be upset at me.”

“Damn right I can! I can and I will! And I am not your sweetheart!” he stormed out of the kitchen to his room, slamming the door. A poster fell off the wall, but he didn't bother to pick it back up. He just hurled himself on the bed, face down.

He didn't blare music, just laid still and quiet. Twenty minutes later, the door cracked open, and Victor poked his head in.

“Dinner is ready,” he offered. Yuri didn't bother to lift his head. His guardian hung in the doorway for a few seconds. “I can bring you in a plate, if you'd like? I know Yuuri doesn't like it, but if you need some time to cool down, it's fine. Just don't leave dishes in your room.”

“Wouldn't want to piss the piggy off, would we?” Yuri snarled. “I'm not hungry anyway.”

“Don't call him that, Yurio.” Victor sounded tired as he stepped in. He sat on the edge of the bed. Even though the kid couldn't see, his hand was hovering, almost touching his back.  
“I know you're upset, but we don't name call.”

“I'm not a little kid.”

“We know that. But even adults have rules they have to follow.”

“No, they have laws they have to follow because they're a part of society.”

“I suppose you have a point.” Victor was thoughtful. 

“No one owns their time. No one owns their body.”

“Yuuri doesn't think he owns your body.”

“He does! He's so worried about what I might be doing with Beka and how it would reflect on the two of you. But it's my body and these are my choices to make, old man.”

“Yes they are, and it is your body.” Victor scrubbed his hand down his face. “But your body is in our care for right now. And we do have the authority to make choices when we feel you aren't making the best ones.”

“Beka is not a bad choice.” the words were lined with venom.

“That isn't what I said. But staying out all night when you have an exam and classwork to do is a bad choice.”

“But it's my choice!”

“Not really.” Victor stood up. He patted Yuri's calf, ignoring the way the boy kicked at him halfheartedly.   
“I'll see you in the morning, Yura. Good night, love.”

He didn't say anything in return, aware of the way the older man walked out of the room and closed the door gently. The term of endearment burned in his throat, made tears sting his eyes. They didn't get it, and he had no way of making them understand it.

Well, he decided. They weren't going to own him. No way. He went to his closet and began pulling out his outfit, pairing it with shoes. He found a fishnet shirt, which would go nicely with a ripped black crop top. He found the long slung skin tight jeans, with the belt that would just accent his hips. Black high tops, since he'd have to walk a ways. He wanted to do more with his hair, but he wasn't great at braiding his own hair, so a messy bun would have to do.

Silently as possible, he leaned into the mirror over his bed and began to do his make up. Smudged eyeliner. Just a hint of black eyeshadow. He even had a candy pink lipgloss that made his lips plush and full. And then, he laid down in bed, pulling the blanket over him.

Yuuri and Victor ate in the kitchen. He listened to the click of dishes, the quiet hum of conversation. He hoped that tonight they'd be tired enough from practice and coaching, or just bothered enough by him being unhappy they'd go to bed early. 

When he heard footsteps coming towards the bedrooms, he cramming his phone under his pillow and closed his eyes. He focused on making his breaths even and steady. Sure enough, the door slowly opened, the gentle light of the hall spilling across the foot of his bed.

“Oh, Yura,” Katsudon. The man crept towards his bed, and he could only hope that it was dark enough he couldn't see the makeup. He was grateful he hadn't used hairspray or tried any body sprays. Yuuri just dropped a kiss on the side of his head.  
“I'm sorry that we had a rough night. Tomorrow will be a better day.”

A pang of guilt stabbed the Russian. He shook it off as much as he could. Katsudon and the old man were his guardians, but that didn't mean they could treat him like a child. He had to show them that he could make the best choices. He'd go out, slip back in, bang out the exams, and they'd never have to know about it.

He cracked the door, peered down the hall. Their door was shut, and it was silent. The whole condo was dark. He snuck out of the room, making his way to the door. He held his breath as he passed Makkachin's bed, but the old girl didn't door more than lift her head, used to their comings and goings. Happily, he had remembered to put his phone on silent. He was aware of the new text only because his screen lit up.

Beka: Heading out. Wanna pick up?

No, that would terrible! They'd hear the bike for sure!

Yuri: Nope, meet you there.

Beka: Oh, getting a drop off? Be careful!

Yuri: <3

It wasn't entirely the truth, but he didn't have to correct assumptions. And he would get a ride and get dropped off by that care. Otabek was just assuming that it would be Victor or Yuuri. He swallowed hard, ignoring his jacket and slipping out of the house. Thankfully the door was well oiled, and didn't even click when he shut it. He headed down, ready to meet and Uber at the corner.

The ride was silent, and the club rose into view. He got out at the corner and walked, seeing the surge of bodies. Another pang of guilt stabbed him in the gut. There were so many people there, and they all did seem older than him.

“Yuri!” Beka then, smelling like leather and wind, with his jacket and his hair falling perfectly. Beka, with that faint smile that always made Yuri's heart stop. He swallowed a few times, resisting the urge to throw himself at his friend. That wasn't cool, play it cool, Yuri, play it cool.

“Isn't this 18 and over?” he said, instead, mentally kicking himself. Like that was going to make it easier. 

“I know a guy.” he just shook his head. He took Yuri's hand, ignoring the way that the blond's cheeks burned, and headed for the back door.  
“You look fantastic tonight, by the way.”

“So do you.” and he did. The jeans, just tight enough to suggest the muscles that hid underneath. A black tshirt, tight enough to accent the way that Otabek was built. It made Yuri want to reach out and run his palms down his pecs. 

Being near Beka always made him feel so delicate and small. Yuri found that he didn't hate that. He found that he enjoyed it. Beka made him feel like he was precious, it wasn't cloying or patronizing. It was comfortable, like that was the way that they were always meant to be.

“Here,” Beka pointed to an area behind the booth. “Stay there while I set up, okay?” he slipped a wrist band on him. Yuri just smiled and leaned against the wall, watching his not quite boyfriend work. In a few minutes, the doors would open, and the music would flow. And it would be perfect.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night doesn't go exactly as planned for Yuri and Otabek.

He was close to the booth, half watching Beka, half swallowed up by the crowd. He moved to the music, aware of the sweat and sounds. The way that the bodies pressed against him and then moved away. He was nearly gasping. The beat seemed to take him over.

When the set ended, Beka walked down and reached for him, one hand held out. Yuri took it and was immediately pulled into him. And even though he was warm from the dancing, there was nothing like being pressed against Beka. He nearly purred at the sensation.

“Have I told you tonight how much I love your lipgloss?” lips against his ear, sending chills down his spine. Yuri giggled, glad that no one else knew exactly who he was, or could hear that. He wanted to nuzzle into the firm chest beneath him.  
“I do. It makes your lips look so—kissable.”

“Does it?”

“Why don't we go somewhere a little bit quieter?” Beka suggested, sounding casual. Yuri's heart pounded, and he could only nod and let himself be walked to the side.  
“I'm so glad you could come tonight.”

“Me too,” there was that faint pang of guilt. He told himself that it was worth it, or at least it would be. Seemingly out of nowhere, a water bottle was pressed into his hand, and he sipped before handing it back to Otabek, who took a few deep drinks. He shoved his hair back out of his face.  
“But, I'm pretty sure you were talking about my lips.”

“I was, wasn't I?” Otabek leaned closer, his thumb close to Yuri's mouth. “It would be a shame to smudge them, wouldn't it?”

“I might be okay with that. If it was you?”

“Okay,” it seemed like such a small word, but it could mean so much more. It held so much promise.

Otabek leaned forward, turning his head slightly. Yuri let his lips part. This was really going to happen. He inhaled sharply. What would Beka taste like? Was he meant to have his mouth open?

“YURI NIKOLAI PLISTESKY!” the voice cut through the music and the murmur of people. The couple flew apart as though they'd been burned. Yuri's eyes shot up, and then he saw him.

Victor standing there, wearing a rumpled blue sweater and pajama pants. His eyes were rimmed in red, and his lips were pressed in a firm line. Otabek looked between them, confused. He stepped away from Yuri and folded his arms.

Victor pressed his palm to his face for a second as the kid took a few tentative steps towards him. He shoved his hair back. He held his arms open, his palms out. Without a word, Yuri flew to him, his face burning. 

Victor crushed him to his chest, and Yuri realized, with some wonder, that he had been shaking. He burrowed his face in Yuri's hair and breathed for a moment. It crossed the young Russian's mind then that Victor had been afraid.

“You're embarrassing me,” he mumbled, pushing him away. “What are you doing here, old man?”

“What am I doing here?” he realized immediately he had said the wrong thing. “What are you doing here?!? You were told specifically that you were not allowed out tonight!” the older man's hands gripped his shoulders.  
“How did you even get in here? Isn't it eighteen and older?”

“Victor, what's going on?” Otabek was shepherding them all out the door and to the sidewalk, where they weren't so much of a spectacle. Yuri was grateful for that at least. He was aware of all the sets of eyes on him. 

“You should know! We told him that he wasn't going to see you tonight.” Victor spat. “He has school tomorrow and an exam in two days, and--.”

“Wait,” Otabek narrowed his eyes. “You told him that he couldn't come tonight?” Victor stared at Otabek, who stared back. At the same time, they both turned and looked at Yuri. He wondered then how likely it was for the ground to open up and swallow him whole. Or for the wind to pick up and sweep him away. Or for a bear to come and eat him. Anything. Anything at all.  
“Yuri?”

“I can explain.” he began. And to his chagrin, they both paused and waited for him to speak. And instead of words, all that came out of his mouth was a puff of air. His not quite boyfriend grimaces.

“I'm so sorry, Victor. If I had known...” he trailed off. “You and Yuuri must have been worried sick.”

“Obviously you weren't aware.” Victor said darkly. “Tell Otabek goodnight, Yuri.”

“You're embarrassing me!” he repeated. His guardian just glared and grabbed him by the hand. 

“I'll text, Yuri.” Beka mumbled before heading back in.

“Wait! Beka!” he turned to the older Russian. “Stop it! Let go of me, right now!”

“Oh no, I'm not risking losing you again.” he hauled Yuri towards his car, parked at the curbed. He wrenched open the door and pushed Yuri in, reaching over to buckle him. In a heartbeat, he was around the other side, starting up the car.

“How you could do that to me!” Yuri scowled. “The whole club saw you haul me out of there like a little kid. Even Beka saw. You know how much I like him. He's probably never going to want to talk to me again.” 

Victor didn't respond, steering the car home.

“You're ruining my life. I wish you weren't my guardian.” he kicked at the car, saw Victor's jaw clench. But there were still no words. He was quiet until they got back to the condo. The silver haired man walked around to his side and opened the door, even reaching in to unbuckle him. He ignored Yuri growling and shoving at him.

He wrapped his arms around Yuri and threw him over his shoulder. Yuri howled then, kicking at him. 

“Put me down! I don't like this, Victor! I can walk! What is wrong with you, old man? I said put me down! Who do you think you are, exactly? Are you getting some kind of sick thrill out of this? Put me down!” Victor ignored this as well and headed up to their home. As soon as he closed the door behind him, he dumped his ward unceremoniously on the floor.

Yuri opened his mouth, prepared to continue to scream. But he looked up then, from where he was left in a heap on the floor by the doorway. There was Yuuri, standing, his arms crossed tightly over   
his chest. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, his lips quivering. He had the wide, panicked look in his eyes that let Yuri know he had come down recently from a panic attack. He was almost hunched   
in on himself, wearing one of Victor's sweaters with the sleeves pulled down over his hands and a pair of sweatpants. He looked like he had been pacing. Makkachin was by his side, leaning against his legs, whining slightly.

“You found him.” he breathed, eyes zeroing in on his ward. Some of the tension in the air dissipated. His arms relaxed, dangling at his sides. “He's okay.” Was he speaking to Victor, or Yuri, or perhaps to himself.

“Y-Yuuri,” Yuri choked. His cheeks were burning again. He stood up slowly, walking towards Yuuri. The brunet opened his arms and hauled the boy to him. His hand cradled the back of his head, the kid's face being pressed into his neck. He could feel the frantic pounding Yuuri's heart in his chest, and wondered if it had been like that all night. That thought wasn't a very nice one, and he tried to shake it off. His own heart had been pounding, for very different reasons.

They stood like that, Yuuri clutching onto him like he was something precious. The blond didn't move, didn't speak, didn't even want to breathe too hard, afraid that he would break the spell that seemed to be cast around the two of them.

When he finally pulled away, the relief in his eyes was replaced by outrage. He gripped Yuri's shoulders the way that Victor had, and the blond wondered if he was about to be shaken. A hand was dropped from his shoulder, and he cringed.

He was going to get smacked. He knew it. And maybe, part of him thought, he deserved it.

But instead of a slap, Yuuri cupped his cheek. They stared at each other for a moment, green eyes staring into brown. Brown eyes that gave him such a look that made his soul ache. For the first time that night, he began to feel something like regret.

“You're in so much trouble, kiddo.”

“I know,” he whispered.

“Go take off your make up and get into pajamas.” Yuuri released him. 

“Katsudon,” he began.

“No!” he shook his head. “I don't wanna talk about this right now. I'm so angry, and I don't want to say something I'll regret. Go to bed, Yuri.”

“But I--.”

“I told you to get your little butt to bed, and you'd better do that now.” Yuuri turned to the kitchen and began making a cup of tea. He wasn't shouting, and his tone wasn't even what anyone would call particularly nasty. But it wasn't full of the usual warmth and kindness that Yuri was used to. A stone formed in the pit of his stomach.  
“I am furious.”

“But, Katsudon--.” he tried one more time, trying to reach for him. Yuuri gently moved his arm away from him.

“Yuri Nikolai Plisetsky. Go to the bathroom, take off your make up, put on your pajamas, and get to bed. Right now. This instant. There is no more discussion. There is no more conversation. There is you actually listening to me and going to bed.” he didn't look up from his tea making. He didn't give him a kind look. He didn't offer a hug or a kiss, which Yuri suddenly realized he desperately wanted   
before going to bed. 

“I need to tell Beka that we got home.” he swallowed, his throat tight. 

“I will do that. Give me your phone.” Victor held out his phone. The kid opened his mouth up to argue, paused, and handed it over. The older Russian just pointed to the bedrooms, and he dragged his feet towards them. The blond glanced over his shoulder, and saw Victor wrapping his arms around Yuuri's waist, pulling his back to his chest. The brunet nearly collapsed against his husband, looking exhausted and frightened all at once. 

Not for the first time, the kid wondered if he was too much. He wondered if the couple regretted signing the papers. He wiped his face clean, changed into a pair of sweat pants and a t shirt and slipped silently into his own bed. Potya hopped up and curled next to him, and he had to admit that petting her felt nice. It made him feel a little grounded. He reached out and hauled the cat into his arms, pulled her tight to him. 

Yuri buried his face in her fur, trying to settle himself for a moment. He focused on inhaling and exhaling. He was safe. He was in his own bed. No one was screaming at him, no one had smacked him. Although, he admitted to himself, that would have been easier. Then he would have known what to do in that situation, or understood exactly how his guardians were feeling at the time.

He rolled onto his side, shutting his eyes tightly against the tears that felt scalding. He couldn't shake the sick feeling in his belly, nor could he shake the sensation of wrongness that hung in the air. He'd gone to bed without telling them good night, without a hug or a kiss or anything. 

And more than that, Yuuri made it clear that he hadn't wanted that. And maybe that hurt the most.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath.  
> The recovery.

He woke in the morning, a sense of dread hanging over his head. He slumped towards the living room. Yuuri and Victor were reading a book and the paper, respectively. Yuuri glanced up as he turned a page.

“Your breakfast is waiting for you in the microwave.” his voice was perfectly neutral. He didn't give Yuri the normal warm smile. He didn't ask him how he'd slept. No kiss. Nothing. He pulled out a plate of scrambled eggs with a few strips of bacon, still warm. He ate slowly, listening to the quiet in the living room.

Normally, they'd be talking. Laughing. Making plans for the day. Teasing Yuri. There was only the rustle of paper as the pages turned. When he could no longer keep stalling, he took his plate to the sink, rinsed it without being asked.

He shuffled to the living room and sat down on the chair across from his guardians. He let his palms rest in his lap, rubbing softly, nervously.

“I have never been quite so upset in my whole life.” Victor said flatly. “We told you no, multiple times. We told you that it wasn't going to happen. We told you why. We told you, even that Otabek could come here for the rest of his time. And that wasn't good enough for you, was it?”

“Because we're not children and we don't need to be supervised.”

“Obviously you do. He snuck you into a club when you're underaged.” Victor retorted.

“And you burst in and dragged me out like a little boy. What, do I need to come once the street lights turn on?”

“Is that what it'll take for you to behave?” Victor snapped. Yuri crossed his arms and slouched down in his chair. Yuuri only wanted them for a moment, tapping his finger on the arm of the couch. 

“I wasn't misbehaving. You just don't believe that I can do anything. You think I'm a little kid. I'm practically an adult.”

“No, you're not.” Yuuri's voice was soft. They both looked at him sharply. “Adults don't treat people they love like that. Adults don't worry people half to death on purpose.” he stood up and walked towards the window.  
“I had a hard time sleeping, because I don't like going to bed upset. And I was worried that you weren't going to be able to sleep. So I went to go check on you.” he sucked in air through his teeth, blew it out slowly.  
'You weren't there, Yuri. There was an empty bed. No note. You weren't answering your phone. One moment you were there, and one moment you were gone.” he spun to look at his ward.

“Katsudon, I--.”

“I know that you were mad at us. I would have been mad at us, too, if I was you. But I never, never would have hurt someone like that.” his eyes shimmered with tears. “Do you have any idea the things we thought? You could have been kidnapped. You could have wandered off and gotten killed. Do you not understand? Does it not mean anything to you?”

“It does!”

“But you didn't think of any of that, did you? You only thought about what you wanted. Actually, Yuri, I think you did think about how much it would hurt us. You were hurting, so you wanted to hurt us. Just like a child would.”

“No, that's not it.” he rose out of his chair. It wasn't Yuuri's words that were hurting. It was the tone of his voice. The heartbreak, the upset. He wanted to run to the brunet, throw his arms around him, beg for forgiveness. Apologize a thousand times, until he felt those arms wrap around him, until he felt a kiss on top of his head and he knew that things were okay.

“It is it. But I don't expect anything else from a child.”

“Katsudon, please, I'm sorry.”

“I know you are.” Yuuri headed for his room. “Please leave me alone today, you two.” he headed in for the room he shared with Victor. He close the door quietly. The other two stared at each other. Angry blue eyes peered into shocked green.

“You're in big trouble, kid.” Victor snarled. “No cell phone. Schoolwork. Practice. Home. That's all you'll be doing. If I can't trust you out of my sight, then you won't be out of my sight.”

“That's not fair!”

“Do you think what you did to us last night was fair?”

“Do you think it was fair to embarrass me in front of Beka and the whole club?” he was ready to throw something at Victor. He had a feeling that might be making things worse.

“If you don't like the consequences of your acts then maybe you should rethink the way you're behaving.” he dropped into the seat. “I am not going to debate it with you, Yuri. The decision is final. And I recommend you don't pull another brave little runaway act and leave again.”

Before Yuri could retort, there was a knock on the door. The silver haired man got up and answered it.

“Otabek, what a surprise.” his voice was tight, although he wasn't unpleasant. He stepped back and allowed him to step in.

“I know I should have called but I just want to speak to Yuri for a moment. I understand that he might not really uh, be allowed to right now...” he trailed off. Victor gave his ward a dark look and then glanced at the other young man.

“I can make an exception.”

“I won't be long.” Beka promised. A sick feeling bubbled in Yuri's gut.

“Beka,” he said softly. The dark haired man stood in front of him and gave him such a look that Yuri wasn't sure if he wanted to scream or cry.

“Can I take your coat or offer you a drink?” Victor asked.

“I won't be staying long.” he said politely. That didn't feel very nice. “Can we talk somewhere alone? For a minute?” it was a question more towards Victor than Yuri himself. But Victor only pointed to his ward's room.

“With the door cracked open.”

Yuri didn't fight about it. He walked Otabek in and nearly closed the door. He sat on the bed.

“Yuri,” Beka sounded tired. “I'm leaving on a flight tonight.”

“What!” his head shot up. “You were supposed to stay for days. So we could spend time together.”

“Well, I think that's ruined.” Otabek shrugged. “I don't think you're going to be allowed to do anything for a few days, do you?”

“Only because they're way overreacting.”

“No, they aren't.” Otabek's voice was calm. “Yuri, you snuck out. You lied. You made me look like a liar, too. I really, really don't like that.”

“Okay, okay, I'm sorry.” he looked down at the floor. “I just didn't want to lose out on spending that time with you.”

“I mean, you've lost out on all the time with me now. Didn't think that one through.” he rubbed his forehead. “Besides, Yuri... I just don't want to hang out with someone who lies.”

“What are you trying to say?” he stood up, walked on shaking knees towards his friend. “Are you saying that you don't like me?”

“No, God, no.” that helped, a little bit. “But Yuri, I really think you that you need to work this out with Victor and Yuuri. They really care about you, and you kind of threw that in their face.” he sighed.  
“But I really don't like the dishonesty. Why didn't you just tell me that you couldn't come? We could have planned something else? I didn't care if you didn't come to the club. We could have had the rest of my time here.”

“So stay. I-I'll just talk to them. They have to let you.”

“You should talk to them.” Otabek agreed. He placed his hands on Yuri's shoulders. Butterflies exploded in his belly, making him gasp.  
“But I'm not going to stay, Yura. It's not a good time. There will be another time. As long as you promise to never, ever lie to me again.” his eyes were intense and serious.

“I promise.” he said softly. “Do you still like me, Beka?”

“Yes! I like you very much! And that's why I'm so upset about all of this. I want to be able to trust you and—and enjoy our time together, Yura.” he crushed him to his chest. Yuri relaxed in the hold, feeling calm for the first time that day.  
“I should get going.” 

“Don't go,” he mumbled.

“No, I think there's some serious parenting going on here right now. I'm not going to hinder it.”

“Please, Beka?” normally that worked. He knew for all Otabek could be stoic and chill to the outside world, he melted for Yuri. But this time, those strong hands pried him off. He almost whined at the loss of the heat.

“You've got to face the consequences of what you did. Otherwise, you'll never work through it.” a kiss on his forehead.  
“I'll talk to you later. Do you have your phone?”

“No,”

“Well, text me as soon as you do.” one lingering touch against his cheek. “And try to be good, okay, tiger?”

“Bye, Beka,” he breathed.

“Bye, Yuri.” and he was gone. The words left unsaid hung heavy. The things they hadn't done clung to Yuri's skin. He threw himself down on the pillow, allowing himself this time the luxury of his hot tears. 

***

Victor and Yuuri left him alone the rest of the day. They didn't even call him to supper. When he got hungry, Yuri made his way to the kitchen, and found that there was dinner on the soft. He dished himself a plate and ate alone at the table, still remembering to rinse his dishes.

He wasn't woken for practice, but stirred when he heard his guardians getting ready. He rushed to get ready. They waited for him at the door, although neither of them asked how he was. And Katsudon didn't remind him to wear a hat against the cold weather.

He walked behind them to the rink, hands shoved deep in his pockets. His heart wasn't in his routine that day. He kept looking out of the corners of his eyes for Katsudon, who was wrapped up in his   
own routine. 

At least at the rink, Victor talked to him for coaching. And Yuri was forced to admit that he was not unkind. He worked patiently, like he always did. He expected perfection, and Yuri was determined to give it to him. This session was just without his usual fond smiles and hair ruffles. And this break didn't come with a special snack made just for him by Yuuri. Instead, there were protein bars and fruit bowls in the break room.

“Better get on your exam,” Katsudon said as soon as they got home. Again, it wasn't unkind. It just didn't come with a big snuggly hug and a wish for good luck. He dragged into his room and booted up his computer, ready to begin.

When it was over, Yuri fairly collapsed onto his bed. He buried his face in his hands. This was ridiculously uncomfortable, for ways that he couldn't describe. His hands itched for his phone. There was someone he had to call, although this time it wasn't Beka.

“Victor?” he found his guardian on his own laptop.

“Yes?”

“C-can I have my phone?”

“No,”

“Please? I want to call Dedushka.” he bit his lip. Victor paused and then reached for his own cell phone.

“You can use mine.” there was some level of sympathy there. “But I'll know if you get on IG or Twitter or anything else. Call Grandpa and hand it right back to me. Are we clear?”

“Yes,” it lacked any bitterness. He simply took the phone and went back to his room. He should have known that Victor wouldn't say no about something like that. They had never, not once, been upset about him missing his Grandpa, or wanting to speak to him. Just like Grandpa was never bothered when Yuri called, no matter the day or night.

It was in one of the most frequently contacted numbers. Yuri wondered how often Victor spoke to him. He hit the dial button and listened to the ring.

“Victor, is something the matter?”

“It-it isn't Vitya, Dedushka.”

“Yurotchka! How are you, my boy? Is something wrong with your phone?” hearing his voice made Yuri want to collapse. He sat on the floor, his back to his bed as he let his finger trace patterns in his   
carpet.

“No. I kind of um, don't have it right now.”

“Is it lost?”

“Not exactly. I'm not really allowed to use it right now.” it sat between them.

“I see,” Deduskha said seriously. “Do you want to talk about what happened, little boy?” it wasn't malicious, just a sweet phrase that Dedushka had called him since he could remember.

“I messed up. I did something wrong.”

“Oh?”

“Otabek was in town, and I really really wanted to see him. He was a guest DJ at one of the clubs. It wasn't very far, and it wasn't even very late. But Victor and Yuuri said I couldn't go. But they went to   
bed early so I went anyway. I thought I could get there and come back before they noticed I was gone. But Yuuri woke up, and realized I wasn't in bed.” he said it almost all in one breath.  
“Victor came to the club I was at and dragged me home in front of Beka and God and everyone. They took my phone, I'm not allowed to do anything but schoolwork and practice. And talk to you.” he added.

There was a beat of silence. Yuri could almost hear the old man thinking. He gave a low hum. The kid closed his eyes. If he concentrated hard enough, he was almost back in the kitchen of their little house, with it's smell of pirozhki and the rough yellow soap Grandpa washed his hands with. He bit his lip against the sob that was rising in his chest.

“I'm disappointed in you, Yuri.” he wasn't sure what else he could have expected. “I raised you better than this, little boy.”

“But Grandpa, I didn't have a choice.”

“That's nonsense. There is always a choice, and you made the wrong one.” Grandpa scolded. “That was selfish and thoughtless. How would you feel if you woke up and they were gone?”

“Horrible,” he mumbled.

“And they felt worse, I promise you.” he sighed. “Have you apologized?”

“Kind of. They're not making it easy.”

“It isn't their job to make it easy on you to apologize. It is the job of the transgressor.” Yuri pulled his knees up to his chest, listening to the rough voice of his Dedushka.  
“And you have indeed transgressed, little boy.”

“But they're being mean to me now!”

“What are they doing?”

“They—they...” how to explain it? “They aren't calling me for dinner. Or bringing me snacks at practice.” it sounded lame as he said it out loud.

“You sound like a spoiled brat.” you had to hand it to him, Dedushka was straight and to the point. “And I wouldn't be jumping at the chance to do anything kind for you if you had treated me like that. And make no mistake, Yuri, I'm not happy hearing about this, either.”

“I am sorry, though!” he bit his lip. “I'm so, so sorry.”

“I'm not the one you need to be apologizing to. Vitya and Yuuri are. And I expect you to go and do that right now.”

“Yes, Dedushka.” he said softly.

“I love you very much. And so do they. Now, go and make it right.”

“I love you, too.” he ended the called and stood up, swiping at his eyes with his sleeves. He took a deep breath and made his way to Victor, still on his laptop. He held out the phone. The older Russian took it and set it on his desk.  
“Vitya?”

“Yes, Yuri?”

“I am so, so sorry.” Victor stopped typing and pushed away from the desk. The boy threw himself at Victor, hugging around his neck. Victor patted his back for a second.

“I know you are.”

“I shouldn't have left like that. I shouldn't have yelled at you and blamed you. I should have done what I was told.” the word flowed out of him. Victor didn't say anything, only gave him a squeeze. 

“Yuri, listen to me. I want you to know that I remember being your age. I remember what it's like, malyutka. We don't make rules just to ruin your life. I know it feels that way.” he sighed. “But I can let all that go. I think you and Yuuri need a conversation, don't you?” 

He nodded. There was void there, bigger than the one between him and Victor. After all, he and Victor had skating. They had to be able to work together at least on some level. It was different with the brunet. It always had been. 

The Japanese man was sitting in their room, in the chair in the corner, not quite reading a book. Yuri hovered in the doorway for a few moments. He wasn't acknowledged but then, he didn't knock either. He stepped inside. His guardian finally looked at him and seemed to soften, seeing the regret and misery in those big green eyes.

He set the book aside and opened up his arms. Yuri darted across the room and sank to his knees, his arms wrapping around Yuuri's waist. Hands were instantly pulling him tightly. He stroked his hair, and they stood for a few moments, clinging to each other.

“I'm sorry, Yuuri, I am so sorry.”

“Tell me exactly what you're sorry for.” the older man said softly.

“I'm sorry for disobeying you. I'm sorry for not doing what you asked me to do.” 

“That's not exactly what I'm upset about.”

“It isn't?”

“No, sweetheart.” the term of endearment made him freeze. He lifted his face up to look at Yuuri. Tender, sweet hands came and cupped his face.   
“I mean, I'm not exactly happy that you broke the rules. You know better than that, don't you?”

“Yes,”

“I'm unhappy because you put yourself in such a dangerous place. What if something had happened to you walking to the club? Or in the Uber, if that's what you did? And we didn't know that's where you were? What if you and Otabek had been in an accident and we hadn't known? What if something terrible had happened at the club?”

“I... nothing like that would happen.” he squirmed.

“But it could sweetheart. We never leave without letting you know where we go. When I looked in there and saw you gone, I thought of all the terrible things that could happen to you. And I was scared. Because, Yura, you are precious to us. You are so, so important. I know that you haven't been here for very long, but I don't want to ever think about you not being here, especially for something like that. We love you so much, Yura. I love you so much, sweetheart.”

He whimpered and buried his face into Yuuri again, letting him stroke his hair and hang onto him for awhile. They were there in quiet for a few minutes, enjoying the sensation of being together. Yuri lifted his head again.

“I thought that—that maybe you didn't want to be like this anymore.”

“Like what?”

“Like I'm your kid? I thought that because you didn't come wake me up and didn't pack me snacks anymore you didn't want to pretend to be my parent.”

“I am so sorry I made you feel that way.” Yuuri was frowning, thumbing away a few tears. “That was never my intention. I just thought that you didn't want to be like that anymore. I thought that you were so angry at us, I thought that you wanted to have space. So I was giving you that. And I needed some space.” he admitted.  
“I'm sorry Yuri, I thought I was giving you what you needed.”

The kid climbed up up, sitting in the brunet's lap. The older man laughed softly, cuddling his close. Yuri hadn't realized how much he missed this until it was gone. They sat there in silence for a moment.

“Can you forgive me?” Yuuri asked.

“If you can forgive me?” Yuri rested his head on the brunet's shoulder. 

“I will always forgive you, sweetheart. It's going to be okay.”

And for the first time in several days, Yuri started to believe it would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, if you have a prompt, send it my way!


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